Shadow Dance
by midnights shadow
Summary: Please R&R before this sinks into the oblivion of the back pages. *Finished* Monsters come in all shapes and forms. Just ask Spike. Rated for descriptive content.
1. In the begining...

Summary: This is the story of Spike meeting a great (couple times) grandchild and things that go bump in the night.

Disclaimer: All regular characters belong to Joss Whedon, ME, etc, etc. Midnights' Shadow-Sarah-is mine. 

Archive?-let me know, I'll be forever grateful (and don't forget humble)

  
  


The young man reached out a hand to help the struggling woman to her feet. "So my shadow, what good news did the doctors have for you today."

The woman grimaced and rose slowly. She heard a crack, just a short quiet sound, then the pain bloomed in her hand. The young man dropped her hand and mumbled a short "Sorry luv'', looking like a small boy caught in a wrong. The woman smiled briefly and patted the young man on the arm.

"The doctors were not very optimistic. I have bone cancer."

"Well, can they do anything for you? You know drugs, operations and all that?"

"No, well, yes they could do those things but it won't stop me from dying. And it would not be an easy death. I don't want to go like that. I'm asking you again to do this for me."

To any passerby the couple in the alley would not have looked out of place. The young man in the leather duster could have been the son facing his mother, disagreeing quietly. Anyone passing would not have heard the conversation, the words were not for the merely curious.

"You know I can't. I have that damned..."

"...chip in my head. Yes, I know but I think that maybe you could. You would not be attacking me to hurt me, but to help me. I think you can do this."

The young man stood in thought his face betraying what was passing though his head as it always had. The older woman chuckled. "Oh, William, you know you want to. I know it's been a while since you've fed properly and here I am offering you prime rib, or well, at least an overdone steak.." Her smile faded. "I wish I didn't have to ask this but I have no love of the indoors anymore, no love of doctors or needles or any of the things they would do to me. You saved me once, help me again."

William glance up from his thoughts. "You knew? Did you always know?'

The woman shook her head. "No. Not always, not until later. I just followed because I had no where else to go... because I was crazy... I don't know. But finally I remembered. And now I'm asking for this thing. Please. Save me again."

The decision was made swiftly. "All right then, but I think you need to stay still and you can't make any noise or I may not be able to finish. And it will hurt. It will hurt a lot."

He started to move but she stayed him with a hand on his arm. "Wait, I have this for you. It's not much but it is yours." She pulled a small heart shaped locket from her pocket. "This has been in my family for generations but it is yours."

"Fine." He took the locket away from her. It seemed to be gold. Good, at least it was something he could sell for money.

He started to move and again she stayed him with her hands. "Please, I want to see, you know, how you look."

The smooth face of the young man transformed then to what some people dream in nightmares and others see at their last moment alive. She reached up and traced the bumps on his forehead and searched his yellow eyes. "You always were beautiful to me."

He moved behind her and reached his arms around her to capture her hands. He had wanted to hold her hands down firmly so she wouldn't struggle but he felt the lump already forming from his earlier attempt to help her up. Instead he just covered her hands lightly with his own. Then with a swiftness that defeated the eye he dropped his head to her neck and bit down. The rush of blood was glorious. This is what he missed, the slight metallic tang, the taste of salt and the smell of a person as he fed. He could feel the gathering of pain to come, and thought come on just a little bit longer and it'll be done. The blood no longer gushed and as he took a few more swallows the pain began to bloom behind his eyes, not quite so sharp as normal but insistent and increasing in intensity. He stayed with the job, for such it was, as long as he could but at last stopped and laid her gently down.

"Goodbye Sarah. I hope you find your little boy" He stood looking at the body. Yes, she did look peaceful. The arm, which had been lying just so, slipped and fell to the ground revealing the corner of an envelope. "Here now Shadow, what's this? Have you been trying to hide something from me?" William stooped and retrieved the envelope from the ground. "Is this some more of your writings? I wonder where your writings are?"

The envelope was addressed to Rupert Giles. "Well, well, what is this?" He tore the envelope open and began to read. Suddenly the night was broken by the sound of running footsteps. Looking up he could see someone running toward him. Damn, the Slayer. As he turned to go he tripped over Sarah's foot. The pages of the letter fluttered to the ground as he opened his hand to catch himself from falling. "Damn." He reached down to snatch up the letter. He fumbled and managed to get only one piece of paper out of the many on the ground. The footsteps were closer now and he did not want a pissed off Slayer catching him here. It just wouldn't look good and there was the fact he wouldn't be able to fight back if she decided to take action first and ask questions later. "Damn!" Clutching the one piece of paper he retreated into the night. 

  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  


"Don't let the midnight dance past your door unless you are ready to follow."My mother used to say this before tucking me in at night. I never knew what she had meant by that. I never knew until I saw midnight for my self.

I married when I was young to a handsome boy. It wasn't until we had been married a few years that things began to go wrong. We lost our first and only boy child and it was too much for my husband. He began to drink, and he was not a pretty drunk. The hitting began when he came home from the bar. At first he was sorry, and later-well, later I think he just stopped thinking about what he was doing. 

We moved a lot in those days. We had lived in a pretty neighborhood when everything was bright and our baby boy was new. But after his death and the drinking we began to drift. Slowly but with inevitable certainty we ended up in the broken houses on the poor side of town.

That was when I saw midnight dancing although I did not know right away.

It was past dusk when the neighbors moved next door. I saw them come in a cab. There were four of them, two women and two men. My husband had left for the bar and I sat on the stoop enjoying the only time of day that gave me any joy, the silence after the children were called in and before the less innocent began their nightly search of a game to play.

The two women and the tall elegant man breezed up the stairs next door without noticing me. I didn't think they even knew another person was on the street. The other man took his time, looking around with interest and at last noticing me. The grin he gave me wasn't meant to be friendly, his lips curled too much and the laughter in his eyes was not something to be shared but to be avoided. I went in then and didn't see them again for awhile.

I do not remember much of the day to day of that time. There were long days punctuated by evenings of loneliness and early morning beatings. Most days were full of drudgery and the fear of waking and sleeping.

There was one particular night that stands out as it was the night before I saw my midnight. 

My husband had come home in the early hour before light. He was drunk and full of anger at something or another, or maybe just at life. I was his outlet. I didn't even have a chance to hide. There was no warning, just him storming in the door and swinging his fist, screaming in rage, yelling and the hitting which went on and on.

I am sure I screamed. I must have screamed although now I can't remember. 

I don't remember much of the rest of that night, just a jumble of nightmares and pain and dreams of strange creatures. There are places in hell where you must feel like that, that the torment will go on and daylight will never come and the pain will never stop. 

But day did come, and the next night the dance had begun.

I got out of my bed finally the next evening. I was tired and hurt in places that no one should ever hurt. I washed the blood from my body afraid to look and afraid not too in case I needed to see a doctor. My face, which had never been beautiful was not even recognizable to me. My eyes were swollen and black and my lips purpled and cut. There were too many bruises on my body to count. 

It was now the time of day that I took joy in so I went out to the stoop to sit. I did not know where my husband was and did not care, as long as he was not here. The night was warm and soft and the coming darkness hid my face. 

There was laughter coming from the house next door, the sounds of a party. Briefly a woman came to the door and laughter spilled out but she was pulled back inside. I envied her then. Envied the easy laughter and the company. 

I went back inside and sat by the window and watched the house next door wishing for a better day or long forgotten friends. 

Slowly as the night wore on the sounds next door faded until there was silence in the house and then I saw him. 

He was standing in the window with a woman in his arms, the streetlight illuminating them through the glass. Both were facing me and although I was sure she couldn't see me I was equally sure that he did see me. Slowly, with the grin on his face, he tilted the woman's head. And looking in my eyes he changed, just that swiftly from a cocky boy to a nightmare. I watched him lower his face to the woman's neck and although I only had read about these things in books as bogeyman stories I knew what he was doing. The woman did not struggle only sagged after a minute in his arms.

He raised his head when he was done and grinned that grin that did not invite friendship and nodded in my direction. The woman dropped from his arms and he disappeared back into the darkness of the house. 

That was the night we began to dance. 

I watched the house all that night but did not see him again. I watch the house every night after that and saw the people come. People coming but not leaving. Some nights I followed my midnight around the city. Some nights he took notice and hit me. He hit me to make me stay away but he never hit me like my husband so I followed. Some nights he took no notice of me and fed without regard to my presence. Or perhaps because of it.

There were many nights when I knew I was looking into hell. When my midnight fed he was not always quick. Sometimes there were screams and begging and those nights I tried to make myself tell someone, anyone, to make it stop, but I couldn't. Other nights the four would make sport of their prey together and have an dark sex afterwards. 

I must have been crazy for a while. Surely a sane person would not have followed and watched. But I could not stop and didn't want to for my midnight was beautiful to watch. The tilt of his head and the knowing grins. He always sought the hard edge of life where youth and beauty met with violence. And he always won.

There were times over the years that I tried to warn people about him but no one would listen. No one believes in the bogeyman or if they did believe, even a little, they always felt that it would not be them. He would call me the crazy bitch in those years. Finally, I just stopped trying to tell anyone and just watched.

I followed my midnight across the county, always sleeping where I could in the day so I would be ready to follow at night. 

After a few years he finally began to talk to me sometimes at night. I think then I was the happiest thought it is all confused. He told me of his life and of his death. He told me stories of his conquest in bed and on the streets. Why he did this I don't know. At times I think it was to scare me although having been to hell myself it didn't, and at other times I feel he needed just to talk.

It has been many years now. I am old beyond my time and the doctors have told me I only have a short time to live. I do not want to die in their hospitals with tubes and pain.

I will ask my midnight to finish the dance tonight. 

If you have received this letter it is certain that I am no longer alive but I will leave behind all that I have observed. I have kept journals of all my times and conversations with midnight. I would like you to have them if you will.

You can find them..."

  
  


"That's all it says. The rest must have been on the next page and that is gone." Giles turned the grimy pages over looking for some further clue or writings. 

The body on the ground between Giles and Buffy became the focal point. The woman, or so they guessed it was, was propped against the wall of the building. Her neck exposed to the night revealed two puncture marks with bruising. She appeared to be sleeping, a slight smile on her face. Except for the peaceful expression, the whiteness of the skin and the two telltale neck wounds marked this as a classic vampire attack. Buffy stood up and brushed the alley dirt from her hands. "I'm sure it was Spike, but I just don't know how he did it."

"What? Oh, yes that." said Giles vaguely waving toward the body that was lying on the ground. "I suppose that if she had asked for him to, um, bite her he may have been able to override the chip. I wish we had witnessed the attack. I would like to get my hands on those journals."

"Well, I know someone who knows what the letter said and I am going to find out what he knows." 

"Ah, take care. We don't know how he, ah, well..." Giles turned to find Buffy had left. "I'll just take these back to the shop." Carefully he folded the pages. 

Spike put the gold locket on the crypt slab. There was something familiar about it but the letter interested him more at this moment. He opened the creased page he had managed to hang on to. Rot the slayer. If he hadn't heard the footsteps and rushed he wouldn't have dropped the rest of the letter. Sliding down the side of the vault to sit on the floor he began to read.

  
  


"...in L.A. at my sisters house. She despaired of getting me off the street but did agree to keep my possessions safe. Her address is as follows..."

  
  


The door bashed into the wall with enough force to jar a few creeping spiders from their silky perches .

"Go away, slayer. I'm really too tired to spar with you today." came the voice from the back of the crypt. Spike quickly slipped the much folded piece of paper into the pocket of his duster and stood.

"Alright Spike, I know that you killed that woman, I just want to know how and if I need to do anything about it." Buffy, matching movement to words backed Spike against the pillar pulling her wooden spike out as she did.

Spike grabbed her wrist and pushed the spike just a little further away. "What's wrong Buff, afraid the Big Bad is back and you won't be able to handle it?" The head cocked just a bit, "Or did you just want to get close?" A small shove put some breathing space between the two.

"Anyway, what makes you so sure I did it?" A few more steps put just a little more distance between them. It did pay to be cautious when Buffy was in a mood.

"We saw you." replied Buffy in a flat voice.

"Well then, why don't you tell me why a vampire would eat a person?"

"Look, Spike. I don't have time for this. Does your chip thingy still work or will I need to dust you? Either way it's a win-win situation for me." Buffy smiled a bright smile and took a few menacing steps in Spikes direction.

God, she is beautiful thought Spike. A gleam caught the corner of his eye. The locket. Damn. With studied casual movements Spike moved toward the stone slab where the locket lay in plain sight.

Buffy was faster.

"So, what's this?" she said snatching up the locket just as Spike reached for it. "Something for your girlfriend?" 

Spike grabbed part of the chain and tried to jerk it away from her. "No, it's just something I picked up. A vamps gotta' sell what a vamps got now doesn't he?"

With the final tug the chain broke and the gold heart shaped locket fell to the floor. The small heart broke in two parts scattering the contents between Spike and Buffy. They both reached down to gather up the tiny contents on the floor. Buffy picked up the bottom half of the locket and looked at the picture. It showed a young man of about 30 with brown curly hair, sharp cheek bones and glasses. 

"Spike?"

Spike had picked up the other half and a few of the loose confetti like pictures that had scattered across the floor. Seeing Buffy's expression he glanced down to his half of the locket. "Oh, bloody hell. Cecily."

  
  


TBC-sorry, needed to correct a couple things here so this is just a replacement.


	2. carry on the line

In the end, getting the journals had been very easy. Sarah's sister had expected someone to be picking them up and just handed them over. 

Spike was headed back to Sunnydale from L.A., the box of journals in the back seat of a car he had liberated earlier. He was glad it was a short trip so that it could be made in one night.. The police just got too suspicious when the windows of a car were taped up. And getting out and mucking about in the sun was never good for his skin. Besides which it bloody well hurt.

The trip proved uneventful. The hardest part was getting the journals into his underground tunnel. After bashing his hand on a protruding rock for the third time in his last trip down, he regretted that he hadn't just liberated a laptop for Sarah earlier. It would have been so much easier to carry than the large boxes. It took the rest of the fading night to put the journals in order. "Right," he said to himself, "looks like I have a bit of reading to do."

His show "Passions" would not be on for a while so he picked one of the volumes at random and made his way back upstairs to settle himself to read.

"July 4th, 1977

My dancer sought me out tonight. He has fed. I can always tell when he has fed well. His color was almost that of a living person and his touch, though brief against my hand, still carried the warmth of humanity. I know it should disgust me but it doesn't.

He was agitated and pacing and a little angry that he couldn't find Dru. It's just his way lately to act and dress like the punk bands that have come into being. The energy suits him. But Dru is still an old-fashioned type gal, if that can be said about a vampire, and thought she still seems to have a lot of affection for Midnight she spends more time away from him than she did in the past.

It is good that Dru is not with him tonight. It is easier when she is not here. I feel as if I am in a constant battle of wills with her and I am uncomfortable around her. She is much more the killer than my midnight, takes much more delight in the torture of small and helpless things. I think she would have killed me years ago except for the fact that I simulate horror at the deeds she tells and put up with the crazy things she says. I am surprised that she hasn't noticed that I am not really horrified anymore.

When midnight finally sat he said it was time for me to learn how a vampire is made, or at least how he was made. It is a story I have asked him to tell before but for his own reasons he picks his own time to tell me his past. 

I will tell the tale here as best I can from what he told me, as I have always done, and as usual I will add remarks and observations as the story progresses. My midnight is always truthful about the killings but sometimes not so truthful about what he is feeling. It is well that he wears his thoughts on his face and that he will usually admit truth when questioned. I don't know why this should be so but it is.

It was 1880 and he had been to a party for Cecily Adams. All the talk that night was about the gristly discovery of some bodies that afternoon. His interest lay in a more celestial area, that of the lovely Cecily Adams. He said he composed a poem for her. He quoted it to me but I have forgotten the exact words. Except for the word "effulgent". It was read aloud at the party and not received very well. 

He said he sat later with the lovely Cecily and declared his love. It must have been a very humiliating moment for him, as she not only turned him down she told him that he was " beneath her."

"Too bloody right, that bitch" muttered Spike and settled down further in the chair. Another half hour until "Passions".

"After that scene he left the party to return to his mothers' home. He said he didn't pay attention to where he was and finally sat down to think. That was when his life changed. He was approached by a woman, the woman I know as Dru. She asked him, though not in so many words, if he wanted a life change and he accepted. She made him a vampire that night. Midnight went into great detail about how wonderful and how awful it had felt. Dying, he said is very overrated by religion. Being reborn, however, is a whole different thing. He told of the extraordinary strength he felt, and of the acuity of he other senses. Just his hearing, he said, fascinated him. He could hear people moving in their houses, could hear their blood flow through their veins. And how he hungered. (He was pacing at this point.)

He told me about his first victim, just a man passing in the night. Dru had to help him hold the man as he was not yet adept at the movements needed. He said he thought that drinking the blood might be sickening but found that it wasn't. It was exciting and exhilarating but it was the fear that added to the satisfaction, to the experience of life and death.. And so it has been ever since for him.

Dru, never one not to hold a grudge, believed a wrong had been committed against her new creation. She told him that it was time for revenge. With his new found sense of power and, of course, the loss of his soul he agreed. William said that he wanted to track down the men from the party and make then pay but Dru insisted that he make his first target Cecily. She insisted that they go straight from his first kill.

The ease of movement, the race through the city, all were new and exciting. He said Dru made it a game. Dashing past people who were not aware of them, spooking horses into flight. When the two reached Cecily's house, Dru told him he must go to the door and get someone to invite them in. 

Despite the late hour the servant did admit them and asked them to wait in the library while he fetched Cecily. When he returned Dru took him aside and killed him-she wanted no interruptions for the nights business.

Cecily did come down after a while and was angry that he had come to her door. And this is where my Midnight began to have trouble with the story. He said that Dru did something then although he wasn't sure what. He said he only had partial memories of the things that happened here. He seems very uncomfortable at this point. I asked him what was wrong but he shook his head, lit another cigarette and continued with the narrative.

He said "I think I had sex with the bitch (Cecily), and I think I killed her." 

I just want to elaborate here myself. He said it just like that. But I do believe he was troubled about this. From his earlier statement it seems that as a human he was probably a sensitive young gentleman of low means. As I have observed in the past, the change from human to a vampire is very profound but each can only grow with what they were given to begin with. Going from this it is hard to believe he was a totally willing participant in what would have been a rape. It was not something he practiced in his former life and is not something that would have occurred to him when being a newly made vampire was an experience in and of itself. I did question this later and will relay the information further on.  
  


He was introduced to Dru's other two companions. Over the next two nights he visited the houses of the men who had ridiculed his poetry. He extracted his revenge by first drinking much of their blood weakening them and then pounding a railroad spike through the top of their heads while they were awake. Actually, it was a railroad spike through a book of Shakespeare and then into the head. He detailed the begging and screams for me here. I believe that he enjoyed himself immensely. 

He said the authorities were making it rough for anyone out at night. It appears that one of the party crowd remembered the incident with his poetry, noted his disappearance and put two and two together. The four tried to hide out in a section of town where he wasn't known, but a broadsheet was put out and it became too dangerous for them to be out at night and too hard to find a place to be safe in the day. 

I don't know if the authorities could have caught them. I don't know if they would have recognized them as vampires or not, but the four decided to take no chances and booked passage out of England.

And that, he said, is the long and short of it.

It was here that I started to question him about Cecily."

Spike closed his eyes and groaned. 'Crazy bitch' he thought, 'sounds like a psychiatrist.' The second thought following that was 'Buffy can never read these.' He had told Crazy Sarah a lot of the things he had done in his time. Some of the things were known to the Watchers but other things, some of the more questionable things in his life were known to no one except Sarah and Dru. And some things not even known by Dru.

"Well, Dru never did read much. Relied on her psychic abilities too much. Too bad Sarah never knew that Dru was afraid of her. Couldn't get a read on her."

Spike scanned down the page and began to read again.

"He seemed very evasive about the whole Cecily thing so I just wanted to know what exactly he was hiding. I have never seen him so uncomfortable about anything he'd done. His fights and indeed, some of his tortures have been very straightforward if excessively gruesome. Him against the world is more his style.

He said that he only has partial memories of what happened. Kind of like still pictures of Cecily under him and Dru laughing. He said the room was spinning and the next thing he remembers is awakening the next night. 

I asked if he thought Dru had anything to do with what happened. He didn't answer."

"Well, of course she did, at least that's what she said later. Gave her hell for it too." He thought that it had almost made up for the way the rape had made him feel. Almost.

He stopped reading after that and just sat for a while. It was time for "Passions". He marked the place and put the book to the side of the chair.

The show had just started when there was a small knock at the door. Spike got up to go answer it, after all you never knew who would come to call. Looking over his shoulder to keep his eyes on the tv he stood behind the door to open it and glanced over as the person entered.

"Oh, it you. Don't you have school or something?" he said to Dawn as he shut the door.

Dawn came into the room. "No," she said in the voice that let any adult know they were the idiot of the conversation, "we have a teachers conference today."

Spike looked at her with a small frown on his face. "Look, you don't have to be here and I don't need to put up with your attitude. That's what your sister's for." He began to gently herd her toward the door.

Dawn skipped around him and went further into the room. "Sorry. It's just that Buffy is always sending me here and there and not letting me go to my friends. I mean, you're a friend but your not my girl friend." She hesitated again thinking of Tara and Willow, "I mean, you know, my friends who happens to be a girls. Anyway she said that I needed to come here, you know, so you can protect me."

Spike sighed. "Yes, I know what you mean. If you are going to be here, sit. My show is on now. And don't touch anything."

He went back to his chair as Dawn wandered around the crypt. She pulled out a couple books and looking at the titles quickly slid them back. Shakespeare, who reads Shakespeare for fun? She picked at his blanket. It was worn and holey. ' Well,' she thought, ' I at least know what to get him for Christmas' and 'do vampires really get cold if they are supposed to be all dead and stuff?'

It didn't take long to make the circuit of the room. She went back and sat on the floor next to Spikes chair. The book was just peeking out from under the chair so she pulled it out and opened it to the marked spot and began to read.

When the commercial came on Spike got up and went to the refrigerator. He grabbed a carton of blood, opened it and began to drink.

"How could you?" Dawn was staring at Spike with an angry expression on her face.

Spike, confused, looked at the carton of blood, back at Dawn and said. "Well, it's not as if anyone else is going to drink this. Or did you want some?" He thrust the carton in her direction.

"No," she hissed. "You know what I mean." She held the book up for his inspection.

He walked over and snatched the journal from her hands. "Didn't I tell you to leave things alone? Do I come over to your house and read your diary?"

"Yes." said Dawn, still unrepentant.

"Well, that was a long time ago. I don't do that now, and that's not the point. I told you to leave things alone. You don't know what you'll find here and if it's the wrong thing your sister will... Well, she'll do something we both won't like."

"You didn't answer the question." Some of the anger left her face as a new thought occurred to her, "You wouldn't do that to Buffy would you?" Her eyes widened and she backed up a step, "You wouldn't do that to...me...would you?"

Spike looked at Dawn and knew his days of telling his tales to her was over. The stories had just become true, not some Hollywood script or ghost story to hear around the campfire. He felt a vague sense of disappointment. The monks had done their job too well, he thought, I'm supposed to be evil and here I am feeling sorry for this kid.

Spike held out his hand toward Dawn. He knew he had to be patient. If he moved now she would be out the door. "Come on, we'll go have a sit and you can ask me any question you would like."

Tentatively, Dawn reached out and took Spikes' hand. He started to lead her to the mattress on the floor but when she pulled back he changed directions and led her to the stone vault in the center of the room. He sat on top cross-legged and patted the spot across from him indicating she should sit there.   
  


When she was seated he began.

"Well, Bits, what do you want to know." He kept his voice neutral.

Dawn was slightly reassured by the matter of fact way Spike spoke to her, just like normal.

"You know, how could you rape her. Didn't you like her? I mean, I'm not good at history but didn't people, you know, not have sex back then? I mean, until after they were married. And it sounds like you liked her."

Spike thought a moment before answering. Just how much did she need to know?

"It would be easy to say that it was Dru's fault. After all, I really don't remember all that much about it myself. But the truth is, I'm evil and I enjoyed it. It really wasn't about sex. It was about scaring her, about doing the worst thing I could think of to do to her."

Dawn searched his face. "I don't believe you."

Spike sat a moment more in silence. "OK, then how about...." He sighed and rubbed his neck. "I don't remember much about what happened. The first few hours for a vampire are for learning how to be one. Dru made me, she is into messing with minds and she messed about with mine. She tried to show me how to be like her."

"Buffy said she is crazy."

"Yeah, well, there is that. But I love her...loved her, that bitch."

Both sat in silence for a while. 

"So," said Dawn, "did you watch her grow up?"

Spike cocked his head. "Watch who grow up?"

"You know, your...daughter. Did you, like, lurk around in the shadows and stuff?"

"What daughter? What are you talking about? Didn't you read the part where I killed Cecily?"

"Didn't you read the part about how Cecily survived the attack and how she had a baby?" retorted Dawn, a little nervous about Spike's reaction to her question.

Spike jumped off the slab and grabbed the journal and opened it to the page where he had stopped reading before.

"...I think that Dru must have had some part in William determining that rape was the best punishment. Certainly he couldn't have know the total devastation that one act would bring to her life and the generations that followed. I do believe that he had left her for dead.

But we know that she didn't die. She was pregnant as a result of that one act and was sent into exile in America with the baby. It was the scandal of the day.

Our family has suffered all the generations since that time. All the women have been institutionalized as crazies. They hear other people's thoughts and it eventually becomes too much. So far, I have escaped that fate although I have wandered often through thoughts that don't seem to be my own...a very scary thing when Dru is around. And all the boy children die in their youth from various diseases, the most notable one being an allergy to sunlight. As my beautiful boy did.

ince I have followed my Midnight, I have read lots of articles in the libraries and I have drawn my own conclusions. Vampires cannot have children because their tissue is dead. Their bodies go through a profound cellular change to sustain the dead tissue. My speculation is that the sperm would not be include in this change as sperm exchange is not how vampires reproduce. The cells, I think, would remain viable for a short time after the change as long as the body temperature didn't drop below a certain norm. Viable but not undamaged.  
  


I think this is what happened to William and Cecily.

I don't have any proof of this and as I think I am the last in our family, although with all the crazies in the past one can never be sure, I suppose that it really isn't all that important or anything that can be checked on. I will never have another child and my sister is adopted so the tainted blood will die with me. It is only worth noting here as it may someday happen again."

Spike closed the book and stood in stunned silence for a few minutes.

"So, bits, I may have a family."

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. picking up pieces

Willow glanced nervously back along the walkway. She was sure she was hearing footsteps but she could see no one else on the street. ' It would be just my luck to run into a vampire without Buffy around', she thought. ' But there should be more people out on the street, and it's still kinda' early and where is everyone.' She picked up her pace just a little faster, now going at almost a jog. 'This is ridiculous' she thought as she once more glanced back over her shoulder.

Turning to face front again, she bounced off the man who had not been there a second ago. She let out a screech.

Spike reached out and grabbed both of Willow's shoulders to save her from a fall.

Willow shook off his hands and glared at Spike. "Don't do that. You scared me to death and...and what do you think you are doing. And don't be so pleased with yourself."

"Have to keep in practice, Red. Never know when things are going to turn 'round." said Spike as he made an appraisal of Willows' neck.

"Yeah, well, just keep your eyes to yourself, mister" said Willow tugging at the collar of her sweater when she noticed the regard. She started off down the street again, this time at a walk, with Spike trailing along behind.

When she stopped abruptly it was Spike's turn to walk into her.

"Why are you following me anyway?" she asked.

"I need you to do me a favor."

"This isn't anything to do with Buffy is it? Or anything yucky or stuff? Or illegal or, you know, something I really wouldn't want to do?"

"No," said Spike, drawing out the word, "I just need you to do some research."

"Oh."

"And you can't tell Buffy. Or Giles. Or the other scoobies."

"Again, illegal, immoral?"

"I just want you to trace a family tree. Can you do that?" said Spike. He cocked his head regarding the redhead in front of him. If she turned him down he wasn't sure who else he could hire. After all, he wasn't exactly rolling in money and this is something might takes a lot of time. He would need a willing researcher who wouldn't run away in the daylight hours.

"Who's? I mean if it's Buffy's you'll just have to find yourself another...searcher of family trees."

"If I tell you I'll just have to kill you." Spike quipped. He had to reach out and snatch at Willows' arm as she turned to stalk off. "Sorry, Red, just couldn't resist. Look, I'll let you know who if you agree to do this. I can't promise it has nothing to do with anyone here, but I'm starting with someone from a ages ago to see if anyone is alive today. Do you think you can handle that?"

"This isn't for revenge or something, is it?"

Willow noticed the strange look on Spike's face. "Ah, no, I guess it's not. Are you feeling ok?"

Spike just gave a nod and shoving his hands deep into his dusters' pockets started walking again in the direction of campus. Willow skipped to catch up. "Ah, you know that Tara is probably going to have to know. I mean we do share a room and she is bound to notice me, like, doing researchy things."

"Fair enough. Just her though. Can't you walk any faster?"

"Hey, so not fair, human here." 

The two walked off into the night still bickering.

  
  
  
  


They arrived at the dorm room to find Tara just finishing up her studies. She gave a questioning look at Spike but Willow just went directly to the computer and booted up.

"Okay, I think I have some ideas where to look for information but I really need to know what you know so I have a place to start." She looked at Spike with her hands poised over the keyboard waiting for him to start.

Spike sat on the edge of the bed and looked down. "I need you to find out about Cecily Addams. I know she lived in London in 1880. I think that she came here to America in 1881. Her father had a bit of money so she probably traveled first class."

Willow looked on hopefully waiting for more information. It was not forthcoming.

"Is...is that all you know? 'Cause, I mean, I can probably find out stuff from that, but, well, more, more would be more nice." 

Spike looked up with a sneer. "Right, then, maybe I'll draw you a bloody picture then we can look at all the movies of people who came to America in 1881."

Tara crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Spike. "I...I think she means do you have any more information about her family. It...it would help to know if they were titled. Were they known enough to be written up in the papers? Sometimes, you know, if they went abroad they would get press in the papers."

"Yeah" chimed in Willow, "you know, the early years of the paparazzi. I think they called it a society page."

"Ok" said Spike, contrite for his earlier outburst, "her dad was a Lord. Lord Addams of Bidford on Avon."

Willow began to type, her fingers flying across the keys, her face betraying her annoyance at the unwanted ads that popped up on the screen.

"Got 'im." said Willow after a few minutes of typing. "Now, I'll just..." She trailed off, again typing at a prodigious rate.

Spike got up and went to stand behind Willow to watch. Despite the fact that computers had been out a while and he was familiar with them he was still impressed by the speed that Willow was able to find things.

Tara moved over to stand on the other side of Willow and bent down to watch the screens. She glanced over to Spike and let out a startled exclamation.

"Ah, ah...your face Spike. You aren't...aren't going to...to".

Spike put a hand up and felt his face. "Oh, the bumps. 'Na, just a tad hungry." He again bent down and indicated for Willow to continue.

"But you aren't..."

He looked over at Tara and sure enough his face was just a regular face again.

"I can wait. Or were you offering?" The smirk was positively evil.

"I...we...I don't have any blood for you." Tara said in confusion.

"Ok, ducks, if that's what you would like to think." Spike continued to regard Tara with the very evil smirk on his face.

Tara looked confused for a moment more, then let out a gasp and turned several shades of red.

Willow, having caught the tail end of the conversation, stood up and started pushing Spike toward the door. "Ok, that's enough buster. Time for you to go and do vampirey things elsewhere, somewhere way far-away elsewhere."

Spike gently disengaged himself from Willow. "Ok. Right. I was out of line." Looking over at Tara he said "I'm sorry. Now," he said directing Willow back to the computer, "will you sit down and finish?"

Tara touched Willow on the arm to get her attention. "It's ok Will. I just...just wasn't thinking clearly. If I had thought about it before I would have know that he could, well, he would know these things. He, he can, um, smell blood."

Spike gave Willow a triumphant smile.

Tara caught the smile and frowned at Spike. "You could have been more polite."

"Well, I am evil not Miss Manners."

"So not." said Willow only partly mollified. She went back to the computer and began to type again. Despite the fact that Spike only marginally qualified as a friend she would finish what she started. The search was the reward.

Tara looked at Spike. "You better leave for tonight. Come back tomorrow. If Willow finds anything before we will let you know." She pointedly opened the door to the hallway.

Spike pursed his lips in a secret smile and let himself be banished from the room.

  
  


The knocking at the door the next evening was at first lost under the noise of the base beat coming from the party down the hall. When there was a sudden lull between songs the pounding intensified with muffled cursing also coming through the door.

Tara leaped off the bed where she had been thumbing through a magazine and answered.

Spike stood in the hallway glaring at the three students who had just bumped past him. He raised his hand to again thump the door and noticed just in time that it was open. He brought his other hand out from behind his back and displayed what had been earlier in the day some very pretty flowers. "Here, these are for you."

Tara reached out to take the flowers. "Th-thanks." She started to move off into the room and noticed that Spike still stood outside the room. A little startled that he hadn't just barged in she invited him to come inside.

Willow turned around from the monitor and motioned for Spike to come over. "I found some things that I'm putting into order now. Do you want to see?"

The monitor displayed the typical branching lines of a family tree and some other odd assortment of lines running off the page. 

"Well, well, you have been a busy girl." He pulled the only other chair in the room over by the desk and sat down next to Willow. "What do these mean?" he said pointing to the screen.

"Well, I found out that Cecily had come over to America in 1881 on the 'Manitoban'. She had a baby already although it doesn't say that there was anyone else, like a husband, traveling with her. When she got here she landed in Canada but then, then she somehow made her way down to Philadelphia, 'cause that's where I picked up on her again. She married a Quaker and they had, like, six kids. So all these lines, these are for the six kids."

"I'm not interested in those six kids. I want to know about the baby she brought over."

"Oh, ok. Well, that's not so good. I mean, I could kinda track them but well, they were all, like, dying young or you know, they were like put in institutions and...and well, there just isn't that much about them or really, I mean, there were only two left. But, but..." Willow stammered her way to a halt.

Spike regarded the down turned head. "Well, go on."

"Spike, you know you killed one of them the other day. So what are you going to do? Go after the other one? Hasn't their family had enough problems?"

"How do you know I killed one of them?"

  
  


"Well, when I was tracking down the family tree, her name came up and I remembered reading about the woman found murdered, Sarah McLaughlin, and then I talked to Buffy..."

"I thought I had asked you not to tell the others."

"Tell, no. No tell, just talked. She told me you killed her." Willow looked up at Spike's face looking for some answers. She thought that there was a touch of, was that sadness? "Did you know her? Was she your friend?"

"I guess you could call her that, a friend. Or at least she thought of herself as my friend. Did Buffy tell you she was dying?"

"Ah, no. It didn't come up."

"She was a street person, you know, a bag lady. She had bone cancer. She asked me to kill her."

"Oh." Willow sat a moment in silence. "Did you know her a long time?"

"Thirty-six years."

"That's a long time."

"Only to you." After a few moments, Spike sat up and started poking at the keys. "You said there is another?"

Willow pushed his hand away from the keyboard and used the mouse to scroll over to the far side of the chart.

"Yeah, here. See. I found this person in this institution and traced it back to them." She directed the cursor to the appropriate spots on the screens. "And see, I found a birth certificate for a baby born while she was in the institution." A few clicks of the mouse on the tool bar brought up a copy of a birth certificate.

"What does the name say?" said Spike squinting at the screen.

Willow clicked on the over small copy and it enlarged. "They named the baby Willamina Cooper. Hey, that's kinda like your name. You know William, Willamina. And, hey, I have an address for her. You could, like, contact her and tell her...well, you could tell her her great aunt is dead." Willow finished lamely.

"Yeah, peachy"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Introductions

Spike growled his rage into the still night.   


"This pacing is not getting me where I want to go" Spike yelled. "The place I want is just across the street. I can see it... bloody "ell, I can read the address, there are no fuckin' cars, so why on 

hells' green earth hell can't I just walk across and go there?"  


This trip to see his progeny was becoming more ludicrous by the moment. There must be some type of keep-away spell preventing him from directly approaching the building. He had watched a couple walk past the store just a short time ago, and yet when he had tried the same route he had, again, ended up in this parking lot. The situation was pushing his patience to the limit, but he could see no solution to the problem of getting across the street. And if he couldn't get across the street he would have to admit defeat and go back to Sunnydale.  


I'll give it one more go, he thought to himself. Just walk forward , and... He suddenly realized he had walked to the end of the block and not across the street as he had intended. With another roar of rage he started tearing the stop sign from the post. He was so caught up in his frustration he had ceased to notice his surroundings, so he startled when the slight figure rounded the corner of the building.  


A young man, or so he seemed, was running with his head down and coming on fast directly at him. At the last moment when collision seemed eminent, the running figure swerved, grabbed Spikes coat and started dragging him behind.  


"You, you have to follow me. They are coming." he gasped. "Hurry, or they'll get you. Come on." The runner had momentum on his side and Spike felt himself dragged into the street.   


When Spike stepped off the curb he immediately felt a great reluctance to go forward but the runner had not released his grip on the coat so he was obligated to follow where that lead. And wonder of wonders, he thought, I'm headed straight for the store I've been trying to reach for hours.  


He let himself be pulled to the side walk in front of the building before he bulked at being dragged.  


"'Er, hold up now. What's coming?" He turned around and looked back the way they had come and saw three demons coming down the street at a fast amble.  


"Kindra." yelled his rescuer, looking back across the street. "Kindra, now would be a good time..."  


He heard the door behind him open and the zing of metal crossing metal. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a woman wielding a long sword. It was a unique enough sight that he spared a few moments more to take a second look.   


His smirk turned into a laugh. "Oh god, Joan of fuckin' bloody arc out to fight the good fight."

  
  


"That's Kindra to you. And you're next on my list of things to do, so stick around."  


Kindra turned back to the demons and crouched down in a fighters stance waiting for the three demons to close.  


Spike also turned back to face the demons. After all the frustration of trying to cross the street a good fight might just restore his good humor. Now, if the amazon would just stay out of his way, he could probably dispatch these three pretty quickly.  


One of the demons planted himself in front of Spike. "These are kinda' stupid buggers." he said to Kindra, "but they do have very hard shells. Try catching them under the chin, there's a soft spot there." Spike crouched down and turning, swept his leg at the demons knees. The demon fell to the ground. Almost too easy, thought Spike, reaching into his duster for a stake. Too late he realized that he had to leave all his pointy items back in Sunnydale. Airlines didn't take kindly to potential weapons these days, so when he had flown to Las Vegas he had to make some concessions. It wasn't as if he had no protection against things that go bump in the night, but with these demons in front of him he did need more than fang and fist.  


The demon finally realized that it wasn't being killed and took advantage of the lack of blows to grab Spike by the shirt front and toss him over his head.   


Spike, dazed, watched the demon lurch to it's feet and start ambling toward the door of the shop. Kindra, he realized, was having a problem, too. She could bash at the two demons that were faced off against her but she couldn't get the proper angle under the jaw to finish them off.  


"Hey, you" he shouted to his rescuer, who's face he glimpsed in the upstairs window, "got any knives or stakes you could spare?"  


A knife came hurtling down from the second floor window to land near his feet but when he looked up again there was no one at the window.   


He reached over and grabbed the knife by the handle and climbed to his feet. The demon was at the door trying to open it so he rushed over, leaped on its back, and shoved the knife up under the beasts' chin. The blade slid through a chink in the diamond hard armor of the demon and cut upward into the rudimentary brain. Spike held on until his feet touched the ground as the demon fell lifeless. He removed the blade with a flourish and turned to see that Kindra had finally been able to dispatch one of the demons but seemed to be having a problem getting the correct angle to eliminate the last of the three.  


"Quick, give me the knife." she yelled at Spike.  


Spike shrugged his shoulder and tossed the knife, handle down, in Kindras' direction. She spun around, snatched the knife out of the air and with the follow through continued up to bury the blade just under the chin of the third demon.   


Spike started to walk back to the door of the shop but was abruptly pushed from behind to be slammed against the wall. There was no slayer strength behind the arm holding him to the wall, but he could feel the point of the knife against the back of his spine.  


"Ok, vampire, why are you here? And how did you get here? Answer quick or the knife goes in and the sword finishes you off."   


'Ye bloody git,' Spike thought to himself, 'you didn't think what would happen if the people knew vampires existed.' He knew this oversight was because he had so often walked among the Scoobies who knew he was a vampire but also knew he was chipped, just another thing to lay at their feet when the chip was removed  


"No, Kindra, stop, he's the one. Remember, I told you someone was going to come to help but he wouldn't be quite right, but he would be the one to help. He's the one." The voice had come from the upstairs window, but now he could hear someone banging down the steps. "Stop, Kindra," the voice continued as the door to the shop was pushed open.  


"Get back inside, Wil." said Kindra in a hard voice.  


"NO" yelled Wil, "don't you hear what I'm saying? This guy is the one. I dreamed him and now he's here. What are you doing?"  


Spike heard the scuffling behind him and felt the knife leave his spine for a split second before feeling it poke back in with more force then before, and then the pressure was gone. He spun around and stood to watch the two girls struggling.  


"Leave off, Wil. Are you trying to get us killed?" The one named Kindra was being bodily dragged backwards by the other figure who by simple deductive logic, must be Wil.  
Spike stood watching with the habitual sneer on his face. 'Amateurs.' he thought, and while it was entertaining, the night was fleeting by and still he had not met with Wilamina.   


He strode over to the two struggling women, grabbed the wrist of the sword arm and applied pressure. The sword dropped with a clatter to the street and he kicked it away. He dodged a swipe with the knife easily and caught the wrist on the follow through. He again applied pressure and the knife dropped from the suddenly useless hand. He caught it on it's way to the ground.  


"Enough." he roared.   


The two women stopped struggling and broke apart to face him.  


"See," said Kindra, glaring over to the other woman, "now he's gonna' kill us and it's all your fault."  


"No he's not." Replied the other woman, taking deep breaths to slow her racing heart, "he's here to help me."

  
  


"I" said Spike, taking a menacing step forward, "am not going to kill you. And," he said, turning to face the shorter of the women, "I am not going to help you. I am only here to try to meet some one named Wilamina, and then I will be out of here. Are we clear?" He moved to hand the blade back to the owner but had second thoughts and instead bent down, put the tip of the knife under his boot and pushed downward. After a second there was a sharp snap. He then offered the knife, hilt first to the woman named Kindra.  


"You owe me buddy." she snapped looking at the now short Bowie knife. "This thing cost a few bucks that I don't have."  


The other woman took a step forward. She reached out a hand to touch Spike face but he flinched backward and she dropped her hand. "Did, did you dream of me too?" she asked, looking hopefully into his eyes.  


"What? No." It was then that Spike realized that this was his great, what, four or five times granddaughter. Now that the goal to see her had been met, he realized that he had not put any thought into what he was going to actually say when they were together.

  
  


Spike looked over the girl in front of him. She was young. Her hair was a riot of dark brown curls and was cut short. When she had grabbed him across the street her hair had been pushed up under a cap and with her slender figure it had been easy enough to mistake her for a boy. Had he looked at her face earlier he would have known she was no boy. Her features were regular and set in an oval face with a wide generous mouth and startling dark blue eyes hinted at the beauty that would be hers when she got older.  


The young girl's face fell. "But I'm Wilamina." she said.  


"And I" said Spike as he gave her his best court bow, "am your great, great, and couple more of those, grandfather."  


"Oh, wonderful." muttered Kindra. "Just what we fucking need, a delusional vampire."

.......................

TBC- I finally know where this story is going, so sorry for the updates to the summary but maybe it will now fit. Also, many apologies for the chapter titles-I had been naming them before I began typing only to find that I ended in a far different place then where I had originally been headed...


	5. Meat, meat, meat

"So let me get this straight," said Kindra with only the slightest of slurs in her speech, "you are in love with a slayer..."

"Thee Slayer." replied Spike.

"And her job is to kill you. Except that now she doesn't have to because someone put a chip in your head?"

Spike nodded solemnly to the two women sitting across the table from him. The table was littered with cans of beer and the bottle of brandy sitting in the center was nearly empty.

"And she doesn't love you back?" supplied the other woman.

"God, that's, that's..." Kindra looked to her partner , "Magda, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Sad? Tragic?"

"No," said Kindra waving her hands about, "pitiful, that's it pitiful. Really pathetic." She reached across and patted Spike's hand. "Don't get me wrong. I mean you're a good looking guy, you know, if you're into guys and all. So why don't you find someone else? You know a nice little, cute, little vampire girl and you could, do you guys settle down?" Kindra regarded Spike with a frown on her face. 

"And on that note," said Magda, "we are going to get you to bed." Madga hooked her hand under Kindra's arm, hauled upward and managed to get her standing."Wil is in the kitchen doing her chores if you want to go talk to her" said Madga. The two then began to weave their way back to the storefront that was the street entrance of their apartments. "You are invited in." 

Spike sat a few minutes looking at the scene around him. There had been a retailer sidewalk sale earlier in the day, and as evening had fallen the street had been blocked off for the annual spring moon madness party. All the stores had been closed and a small stage was set up at one end of the street and a beer tent at the other end. Tables had been put out for the revelers and the rented bar-b-que barrels were still smoking. It was late in the night and though the large crush of people who had been here earlier was thinning there was still no sign of the party stopping.

Spike rose to his feet. He was much steadier than his erstwhile drinking companions had been as he had more practice. Since the evening had started he had only had a few minutes time to talk to Willamina as she had been signed up to run one of the food booths. He still wasn't sure what he wanted to talk to her about but he thought that she might want to know about her great, great aunt. That I killed, his mind added automatically. Well, she didn't need to know that.

He followed the path through the tables that the two women had taken earlier and paused at the door to the shop. Yesterday he had been unable to enter. After talking to Kindra and Madga tonight he had guessed that a second spell specific to the shop had been placed to keep out vampires. Nothing had been said directly to him but he caught the undercurrent of fear. It was strange because it didn't seem to be directed toward him.

When he walked through the door his guess of a spell was confirmed. He felt a tension in the air, a pulling sensation across his skin, then a snap as he stepped across the threshold. Even as he stood still he felt a tingle as if electricity was filling the room.

He could hear the murmur of voices from the upstairs, the quiet talking of people before they bedded down for the night, and two voice much closer. He could tell one of them was Willamina so he moved in the direction of the sound.

He pressed through the racks of t shirts to the back of the store and stood listening in the doorway to the conversation.

"Come on Wil. Kindra doesn't have to go with us. It's just going to be a picnic. It'll be fun. We can do some rock climbing..."

  
  


"I don't know Jeff. Kindra is going to feel like shit tomorrow and she doesn't want me climbing by myself yet."

"You'll be alright. I'll look out for you."

"Jeff, I told you, not tomorrow. Jeff, what are you doing? Jeff..."

Spike had heard enough. He walked into the kitchen and put a smile on his face. "So, pet, are you coming over tomorrow so we can talk and get to know each other better?"

Both occupants of the room spun around at the sound of Spikes' voice. Wil had a grateful smile on her face. "Jeff, this is my Uncle Spike. He just got here yesterday and we really haven't had a chance to talk. He's from England originally."

Jeff looked annoyed for a moment than put a smile on his face and walked over toward Spike with his hand out. Spike ignored the hand and moved further into the kitchen to stand next to Willamina. He draped his arm around his 'niece' and smiled back at Jeff. "Me mum said she would be upset if I didn't get to talk to m'niece, so we're going to make a day of it."

Jeff realized he had been outmaneuvered. He picked up his gloves that were lying on the counter and headed for the back door. "Ok, Wil. I guess we'll wait for another day. Maybe next weekend when your uncle isn't here?" He didn't wait for an answer but went out the door.

Wil looked up at Spike. "Thanks. That was getting awkward. He's never been like that..." She trailed off looking at Spike in alarm.

Spike was having trouble keeping his vamp face from surfacing. He could smell it, human blood.

Fresh human blood and it was close. He glanced down at Willamina's hands but there were no cuts or abrasions although for the scent to have this much effect on him it would take more than a small wound.

Spike looked around the kitchen for another source. On the long butcher block table in the center of the room there were a few packages of ground meat sitting open. "What are these?" he asked walking over to the largest of them. He knew he had to taste the blood lying on the paper to be sure but didn't want to gross out Willamina.

"That's the meat for the chili. Camilla will be down when I'm done the dishes to make chili for the rock climbing expedition. You know, that's what Kindra does. She is going to take some novices out in a couple days and have them climb the rocks in Red Rock Canyon. Then, at the top, they'll stop for lunch before they head down."

Willamina had turned back to finish the dishes as she talked. Spike took the opportunity to taste the blood on the package of meat. The large package held regular cows blood. The second smaller package held what looked like ground pork and with a quick dab of his fingers Spike knew that was what it was. 

The smell of blood was still hanging in the air. Spike started walking around the room, poking into cupboards. "It's got to be here."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" asked Willamina turning around.

"Oh, sorry, ducks." said Spike spinning around. " I was just looking for a...glass, yeah, for some water."

Willamina turned back to the sink. "Next cupboard. Anyway..." 

From this angle Spike saw that he had missed seeing a smaller package of meat. He quickly grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and walked back around the table. The package was hidden under the spread of paper from the large glob of ground beef. He carefully moved the paper out of the way and dipped his finger in the blood pooling around the meat and touched it to his tongue.

  
  


The familiar taste of human blood brought his demon to the front. Human blood. The urge to pick up the package and glut himself was momentarily overwhelming. He brought himself under control quickly, he didn't want to wear out his welcome this early. But this was a bad situation. 

Spike realized that this meat had to be gotten rid of before it was cooked for the chili. Although the demon in him urged him to either forget telling anyone or to just take it himself, he realized both options were not the normal thing a human person would do.

With a sweep of his arm, and a deft flip of the wrist the package of meat was on the floor, he clumsily took a step and was up to his heels in ground meat.

"So sorry. How clumsy of me." He said to Willamina as he accidently ground his foot into the offending meat.

Willamina was staring at him opened mouth. 

"I'm afraid that I accidently caught the paper with my hand as I walked by." Spike supplied by way of explanation as he bent down to gather up the mess.

Willamina bent down and started to help him clean up.

"No." said Spike emphatically. Then noticing her startled look he continued more casually, "Your hands are all clean from the dishwater. I can get this. You finish up. So, where do you get your meat from? I can go out and replace what I've ruined."

Willamina looked at the small amount of meat that was on the floor, it couldn't have been over a pound. "We get our meat from just around the corner. A butcher shop. That's what Jeff does, he delivers for them. But I don't think you ruined very much so I don't think you need to replace any. I'll let Camilla know, if she even asks."

Spike stood, dumped the meat in the trash and went to the sink to rinse his hands. "Did Jeff deliver this meat tonight?"he asked as casually as he could. If she says yes, he thought, I will find a way to hurt him.

"No, we have a freezer where we keep meat. We usually order in bulk and get a delivery about once a month. Jeff just stopped in from the party." Willamina colored slightly, "He wants to take me on a date but Kindra won't let me go out yet."

"Damn straight." said a voice from the doorway. Kindra leaned against the door frame and peered blearily into the bright light of the kitchen. "Just came to get a glass of water. And as long as I'm here, I guess I need to tell you it's way past your bedtime young lady." She pushed herself away from the doorway and began to maneuver to the sink.

Spike saw the look of rebellion that flashed across Willamina's face. "Don't worry, luv. I'll be here a few more days before I have to leave. We'll have a chance to talk."

Willamina turned to leave the room, turned back, and going over to Spike gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for listening, Uncle Spike." And turning around once more raced out of the room and up the stairs.

"Ugh." said Kindra, hanging onto the sink for support. "That child is going to be the death of me. I don't have to tell you to leave, do I?" she said, eyeing Spike.

"No. I'll leave. But I want some answers. Why do you have this place spelled against vampires? What is going on here? I keep catching the scent of fear but I don't think it's because of me." He stood with his arms crossed waiting for an answer.

Kindra took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. It wasn't in her nature to complain or ask for help. But if anyone could shed light on the strange happenings the man, no, vampire, she corrected herself, in front of her was probably the person who could help.

"Look, I'm beat. I need about 40 hours of sleep. Could I come over to your hotel, you do stay in a hotel?" she inquired. At the affirmative nod, she continued "I can come over tomorrow and let you know what's going on." She drew a hand across her forehead. "I am so worried about Wil, but I don't even know what I should be worried about. Maybe you'll be able to tell me. Where are you staying?"

"I'm staying at Caesars Palace under the name William Wordsworth."

"Fine. I'll be over about noon. So, don't let the door hit you in the ass." said Kindra to the retreating back. Kindra waited for the jingle of the bell on the front door before moving to lock up. "Nice ass, if you're into guys..."

*****

TBC


	6. revelations

Kindra stood staring at the door. She raised her hand to knock and abruptly lowered it. She realized that she needed to make a decision soon. She had been pacing between the elevator and the door for five minutes and still wasn't sure she wanted to talk to the occupant of this room.

The decision was taken from her as the door swung open.

"Would you stop your bloody pacing. I've got the mother of all headaches." 

This was not what she expected. Spike stood before her shirtless and pressing a plastic bag full of ice against his head. Kindra blushed furiously. Her dreams during the night had been very erotic, very explicit and full of the vampire in front of her.

Spike turned and stalked back to the couch and threw himself down. Kindra entered tentatively and stood just inside the suite. "Bloody Mary." said Spike, waving his arm vaguely in her direction.

Kindra spun around in alarm. She was sure she couldn't have missed a dead body. Instead, she saw a small room refrigerator, and on top, a frosty pitcher filled with red liquid. Beside it were two small dishes filled with olives and celery stalks, a few spice containers, and a couple of glasses.

"Could you be a luv and pour me one? Every time I stand, my head feels like it's going to fall off my shoulders. Just knew that beer last night was skunky. You're welcome to some yourself."

Kindra, having gone through much the same experience earlier in the day, decided to be a "luv" and pour him a Bloody Mary. "Why don't you take aspirin like everyone else?"

Spike peered out from under his ice cap. "Because this is more fun."

She walked the drink over and stood waiting for him to accept the glass. He had buried himself back under the ice and appeared, to her eyes, lifeless. Losing patience, she thumped the glass on the table near at his hand and walked around to sit in the chair across from him.

Spike smiled to himself. He had noticed that Kindra was very like another lady of his acquaintance, more willing to talk when she was off balance and a little angry. If she felt she was in control, she might be less willing to reveal some important information.

"So," said Spike sitting up slowly, "are you going to tell me what's been happening, or are you going to sit there staring at me?"

Kindra knew when she was being manipulated. She took a deep breath and tried to decide what information was important. Willamina had told her to tell him everything, but she was not so sure that was the best course of action. Some of the incidents could have been just a coincidence, or bad timing.

Spike saw that he had lost the advantage. "Look, just tell me all of it. All of you ladies were walking on egg shells around me last night and I still don't know why. I've told you that I have essentially been to the vet, and now play well with others. So..."

"I guess that I'm not really sure when it started except that it was after we got custody of Willamina." Kindra explained.

"How did you get custody? I wouldn't think the judges would think your house would be an ideal place..."

"Oh, that. We knew her previous foster parents. They were good people but they just didn't know how to deal with Wil's..." Kindra frowned and thought. She started again. "Wil has this strange thing about her. She seems to attract demons. Not the vampire kind but apparently every other kind ever made. We don't really know why they are attracted to her. And we don't know what they would do to her if they got her, probably just tear her to pieces. Anyway, the foster parents couldn't handle all these weird things coming around and were going to return her to the foster system. We had met her, and them, during one of the strange attacks. We, Magda and I, went to court to try to get custody." Kindra smiled. "The judge was going to deny our petition, right up to the moment his court started filling up with chaos demons. You should have been there, all these really confused demons wandering about, looking all confused and sliming up the place. As demons go they aren't the worse sort. The bailiff must have fallen at least fifteen times trying to clear the courtroom. The place ended up all ooey-gooey and we ended up with custody."

"That explains the outer barrier." said Spike.

"Yeah, we want to see what we are dealing with before it arrives on our doorstep. We own the lot across the street so the spell mostly just dumps all the demons there. We get our look-see and decide if we are going to deal with them or not. You, we didn't know why you were there. We don't get too many vampires, and when we do, they mostly have, you know, their faces on."

"Yeah," said Spike, "that's me, man of mystery."

"Anyway, that seemed to work pretty well up until a couple of weeks ago. Then we started finding strange things outside our doors. Sometimes it was diagrams, sometimes spell components, you know, a crystal here, a dried ear there. Three days ago we found a dead cat's body outside our back door."

"Well, they do die, ya' know." said Spike.

"Yeah? And just how do they get rid of their heads before they lay down on your doorstep?"

"Oh, well. Anything else?"

"This morning, or really this afternoon when Jeff dropped by to talk to me. When I answered the door he was kicking this dead crow away from the door. He said it had been lying on the doormat. He said it was kinda' gross. It beak and feet had been tied together with a red ribbon. Does any of this make sense to you?"

"Just sounds like a bunch of strange things to me, luv. That Jeff, what do you know about him?"

"Jeff? You think Jeff had something to do with these things?" Kindra was incredulous.

"Was he around for any of these things, is all I'm asking. How long has he been around?"

"He started working for the store about three months ago. We see him all the time."

"Did he deliver your last meat supply?" 

Kindra looked at Spike like he had lost his mind. "Of course, that's part of his job. And he's been climbing with me once or twice when I take the novices out. He's a big help. Knows his stuff. Besides, when we talked today he said he's worried about all this crazy stuff too."

"How does he know about it?" Spike asked.

"He's the one that found the cat, and the ear, and...oh, well, I see." Kindra hesitated a moment thinking about all the incidents and whether Jeff could have done them. "Ya' know, I just don't think he is the sort for this kind of thing. He's a pretty laid back guy. He can be pretty charming when he wants to be."

"Like Ted Bundy?"asked Spike. He eyed Kindra speculatively. "Do you know him enough to trust Wil with him?"

"Yes. And no. Do I trust him to take her to the movies or shopping for a new dress? Yes, I do. But do I trust him alone with her. No. But not because I think he will harm her, but because she is of an age to get pregnant. And that is something I am not ready to deal with."

"Ok, you've told me who it can't be. Now, why did you tell me if you thought I was the obvious suspect. Or at least obvious enough to put a second spell on you shop." Spike reached for his drink, and looked up to catch Kindra watching him. Spike smiled and lounged back against the couch.

Now you've done it, thought Kindra to herself. He must think I am some sort of desperate female to come to his room and just stare at him. What is wrong with me? It's not like I really want to be with him...or is it? 

Kindra shook off her thoughts. She was here for Willamina, that much she was sure of. And after talking to Spike last night, she was sure he had not been in town for most of the strange happenings. In fact, it sounded like he was planning on returning where he came from in just a couple of days, that his help was needed and valued there.

"I don't know why I came here." Kindra said lamely. "I guess I thought that you might be able to help figure this out. It sounds like you do this kinda' stuff." Kindra studied the carpet at her feet. It was up to him to help or not as he chose. The demons she could kill. She knew how to use a sword. But to find a stalker? She shook her head, she couldn't even tell "who done it" when it was the butler in a mystery story.

Spike sat a few minutes and studied the woman in front of him. She was shorter than he was. Her hair, brown and blond, was cut short and curled in an undisciplined riot over her head. Her hands had short blunt fingers, the strength showing in the play of muscles and tendons under the skin as she picked at her broken nails. He knew her kind, and knew the effect he had on her, as he had on most women. She would be the competent one in any group. The answer man, the person voted least likely to panic in an emergency. And he knew it had cost her to come here, to ask for help.

"Okay, I'll help. But I'll do it my way." Kindra looked up and started to say something but he cut her off. "What I want from you is what Jeff is going to be doing for the next couple days. He may not be the one doing anything but he is the one who stumbles across things first. Maybe it's not about you at all. Maybe it's about him."

Kindra nodded her agreement. "I'll give him a call when I get back to the shop and let you know what's up." Kindra stood up and headed for the door. She hesitated and turned back to say more but stopped herself as she looked at Spike. It had only taken the few moments when she was turned for Spike to recline on the couch. He was still, more still than any normal human could ever be. No breath, no blood beating against the skin, no twitch of any muscles looking for the most comfortable, relaxed position. Kindra shuddered and continued for the door. 

Spike allowed himself a small smile as he heard Kindra mumble under her breath, "We aren't in Kansas anymore."

  
  


******** 

TBC

  
  


Sorry it's taking so long between chapters. I am having a lot of company coming through here this week and next week. One of the hazards of living in a vacation city.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. museum pieces

Spike watched the dust devil climb into the sky and took another pull from the silver flask. The last two days had been a waking nightmare for the vampire. Kindra, true to her word, had called him with Jeff's work schedule. He had rented a car, with blackened windows, to follow the young delivery man on his rounds. Driving around in the daytime, in the Las Vegas traffic, was going to give him nightmares for years to come. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had been in an accident.

Now, on this Saturday afternoon, he had followed him out to Red Rock Canyon. Jeff had left his car in a parking lot and had been climbing over the canyon rocks all afternoon. He appeared to be climbing from one cave opening to the next. It had all the appeal of watching paint dry.

Evening was approaching but there were still a few climbers on the canyon wall. Most of the them had reached the top and were making their descent. Spike had noticed that most of the climbers avoided the openings in the wall and opted for free climbing the exposed areas. This made Jeff's search of the black spaces very suspicious.

Spike's drowsy eyes snapped open as movement from the top of the canyon caught his eye. A rope snaked down close to one of the black gaping holes dotting the cliff face. Jeff had apparently seen the same things and rapidly returned to the last cave entrance he had explored. He ducked inside the darkness just as a slight figure appeared on the canyon rim. The figure bent and straighten a few times then a large object dropped over the edge and plunged down, stopping just a few yards lower than the ledge in front of one of the dark holes.

After a few moments, the figure on the rim turned it's back to the drop off and began to rappel down the wall. It only took a few push offs for the person to reach their goal. Standing on the ledge, the person pulled up the bundle hanging from the second rope, wrestled it onto a shoulder and disappeared into the gaping black maw.

Spike watched as Jeff left his hiding space and began a traverse over to the larger opening in the cliff wall. Now, thought Spike, something is going to happen. 

The day was ebbing quickly, the shadows cast by the far mountain rapidly climbing the canyon walls. Spike finally deemed it dark enough to leave the confines of the stuffy car and stepped out into the hot twilight. Jeff had finally reached the ledge of the cave and was just now disappearing inside.

Spike descended the trail to the base of the canyon wall and studied the rocks up close. They were a sandstone formation and had many declivities and fractures to offer handholds. The torturous route that Jeff had taken was not the easiest way to reach the large cave opening. It became apparent to him that Jeff had not known where the cave opening was, or he would have saved himself a lot of time by climbing directly to it. The reason why he was interested in the cave, and why someone else was using the cave was still a mystery.

He shucked his coat off, folded it carefully and began to climb the side of the wall. It was a fairly easy climb, with plenty of handholds, although at times he had to stretch himself across the face of the rock. He began to get into the rhythm of the climb, carefully testing the holds for fingers and feet and enjoying the sensation of movement. In this manner, he reached the ledge in a short time.

He paused after standing up. There was a faint smell that was familiar. It was the smell of decomposing flesh and grew stronger as he approached the entrance. He entered quietly, unsure of what was up ahead, and advanced only after testing each step so as not to disturb any of the small rocks scattered on the sandy floor. The tunnel narrowed abruptly past the entrance and turned to the right for a few meters before once again opening up and continuing further back into the rock. A faint light illuminated another turn in the tunnel and he slowed when he saw the shadow of a quickly approaching person.

Jeff stumbled around the corner of the tunnel and, disregarding Spike, dropped to his knees and was sick.

Spike approached the young man cautiously and glared at him. "Ya sodding wanker," whispered Spike, "what are you trying to do, get us both sta-er, killed?"

Jeff shook his head miserably and started crawling toward the mouth of the cave, still retching.

As Spike continued on, the smell of decay continued to grow stronger. He finally reached the turn and peeked cautiously around the corner. 

The tunnel opened up to a large cavern, with small chambers pockmarking the side walls. The inner chamber was lit by the steady glare of Coleman lanterns. The floor, like the tunnel floor, was sandy and level, with occasional patches of the native rock showing through. Scattered throughout the large cavern, a few large boulders gave the appearance of the chamber being filled with furniture. 

At first what he saw did not register on his mind, which had become used to the modern store front displays. Although the mannequins were unexpected, it still took a few moments for Spike to realize that they were posed with murderous intent.

After once again studying the room, and not seeing any movement of the other person who had entered the cave, he walked cautiously across the floor to examine the posed figures. 

The smell of decay was overwhelming as he approached the ghastly scenes. Close inspection confirmed his growing suspicion that the posed figures were not regular store mannequins. 

The first scene depicted a tall dark haired man savaging a half nude woman. The brains of the victim were splattered across the floor with most of the grey matter showing through a gaping hole in the head of what had been a beautiful blond girl. The effect of realism was marred by the growth of mold across the face of both attacker and victim, and the many dead maggots imbedded in the now dried and desiccated brain matter.

He moved on to the next diorama depicting a large nude man strangling a small, slight young man that had been chained by the hands to the ceiling. The arousal of the large man was noticeable from where he was standing, though, again, the realistic effect was marred by the growth of mold on both victim and attacker. 

In this manner, moving around the room, studying the gristly scenes Spike slowly worked his was to the back of the cavern and finally stood in front of the last spectacle. This depicted the most famous scene of all the serial killers, the bedroom scene of the last victim of Jack the Ripper.

This display, unlike the others, had not been marred by the growth of mold. He studied the mutilated reclining figure with something akin to disgust. The legs were splayed with skin and flesh removed from the inner thighs, the abdomen had been opened and retracted so that the internal organs were exposed with the intestines removed and looped along the side of the body. The breast had been removed, and the face hacked beyond all recognition. It was a sight that was worse than many he had seen on battlefields that he had cause to visit in his long un-life.

It had been a long time since he and Dru had been the scourge of Europe, he realized, and the last few months with the chip had changed him. It was not just impossible for him to attack a human, but it has given him no choice but to interact with them to acquire his day to day necessities. He found that he missed the banter with the Asian shop girl, Kim, at the quickie mart where he picked up his cigs, and Harry, at the slaughter house where he picked up his blood, who always regaled him with the latest scoring thrills of his favorite basketball team, the Lakers.

He turned to continue his search for the second person who had to be in the cave.

"Helth ne."

He startled at the sound that had come from behind him, and jerked back around to the gruesome display. This time he saw what he had missed the with his first view. There were shackles around the ankles and legs, and also around the arms to hold them in place. He also noticed the teeth, they sported the elongated incisors of a vampire. As he stared in horror, he saw the mutilated face turn toward him. The jaw worked up and down for a few heartbeats and then, against all nature, a voice whispered from the ruined face, "Helth ne."

"Good god." he said aloud, and backed away from the thing on the inelegant bed. 

"I assure you, God had nothing to do with it." said a dulcet voice behind him. "As he had nothing to do with you."

Spike turned to see that a tall blond woman was now in the cavern. She was carrying a long bloody knife, almost sword length, and a pail of blood. Her clothes were covered with swatches of red, and a bright red hand print streaked across her pale face.

"It's almost time to feed my pet. Would you like to stay and watch?" she said, still not moving.

Thought there was no threat, Spike knew that he was in danger. With the chip implanted, he had no defense against this woman.

"Who are you?' he asked, to buy himself some time.

"I thought you already had guessed that." the tall blond replied. She shifted her feet and held the knife up. "I'm one of your descendants, can't you tell by all the blood?"

"Interesting work, that." said Spike, indicating the gory scene behind him. "I wasn't in England for that part of history. Always knew that you humans could do us one better. Nice touch, keeping the victim alive. Shows a real bit of insanity. Now, who the hell are you, and what do you really want?"

"I'm Camilla, at your service." smirked the blond, "And I am Willamina's mother." Camilla put the bucket down without regard to the contents, some of which sloshed over the sides. "I knew that you would show sooner or later after I read how Sarah had died. That stupid cow always had a thing for you. She didn't get it, you know. She always thought you had no choice. But I know different."

"And what do you think I had a choice in?" asked Spike, edging toward the front of the cavern.

Camilla reached behind her back and produced a small tazer gun. "Oh, you know, the killing, the raping, and oh, where do you think you are going?" 

Spike darted toward the front of the cavern, but even with enhanced speed he wasn't fast enough. He felt the electricity from the taser jolt along his spine, and lost control of his legs. As he crashed to the ground, unable to stop his fall, his last thoughts were of Dawn and Buffy and whether they would miss him. Then his world went black. 

  
  


TBC

author's note: The description of the last Ripper victim has been changed to accommodate the physical limitations imposed by vampire physiology, as I see it. I referenced material from the Jack the Ripper Casebook website. This is a very extensive site dedicated to the study of Jack the Ripper, not for the faint of heart, nor would I recommend it for the younger readers. I claim no ownership of said site, and get no monetary gain if anyone accesses the site. 


	8. Deadly Intentions

There were bees. Spike could feel the stings along his arms, and hear the buzzing. The buzzing sounded louder than it should. Maybe he was close to the hive. Then a spasm gripped his body, holding him immobile for a few seconds before he was blessedly released. His eyes snapped open. All he could see was rock in front of him, almost, it seemed, a few inches in front of his face. He felt a few moments of panic at the thought that his nightmare had become reality and he had become somehow entombed in the earth, and would have to dig himself out of rock to the surface. 

Memory abruptly reinserted itself just as another spasm locked his body. When he was free to move again, he turned his head to study his surroundings. He was lying on his back with his wrist bound off to the side of his body. The restraints seemed to be barbed wire twisted up uncomfortably tight against his skin, their sharp barbs making the little bee sting pricks to his wrist. He could see no source for the hum, and in any case, it seemed to be coming from a far distance away. He tried to move his legs a little and was, again, locked rigid, his teeth grinding, and a stiff involuntary smile on his face.

"Bloody hell." he gasped out when the spasm had passed.

"So, you are finally awake." said the voice behind him.

He craned his head to look up over his shoulder at the woman behind him. She appeared to be studying an array of knives on a wooden table. The knives were laid out with the same precision that would have been used in the operating room of any hospital in the country. 

"What are you planning on doing with those?" asked Spike with a certain air of clinical detachment.

"I have plans for you, William the Bloody. Yes, I know who you are. I've heard so much about you from, oh what's her name, that stupid bitch. Sarah. Yeah, Sarah." Camilla held up the knife and seemed to get lost in the reflection for a moment.

"How do you know Sarah?" Spike continued. "And I thought that Willamina's mother was dead."

"No!" Camilla shouted. "She's...I mean, I'm not dead. I will never be dead. She told me the secret. She told me that... I ...that is, we, I could get revenge. She said that nothing should ever hurt her, my daughter, but I told her you would be back. She, I... Camilla stammered to a halt. She looked about the room with a puzzled frown, then as if it had never happened the small malicious smile returned to her face. "You are trying to trick me. You don't want me to have the gift."

"What gift?" Another agonizing spurt of paralysis coursed through Spike. He tried to control his muscles, but was unable to move while the jolt passed through him. He had figured out that the paralysis was caused by electricity run through the wires, but had not been able to figure out how to remove the barb wire from his wrist. With the wires tight against his skin, the barbs poked through his skin and prevented his wrist from sliding within the confines of the wire.

"...going to turn me." His attention was abruptly brought back to what Camilla was saying.

"What are you babbling about?" His years of contact with Drusilla had innured him to rambling threats of violence, but this was a much different conversation.

" I said that I was going to cut you up a bit, just to get a little blood to the surface, then I was going to slit your throat, then my throat, and you are going to turn me. You know, with your blood." 

Spike's reaction was not what Camilla was expecting. He laughed.

"Why are you laughing? Stop that. Why are you laughing?" Camilla slapped Spike in the face. The sharp sound of the slap cut the laughter off abruptly, but Spike continue to smirk at his tormentor. For a moment, just a moment, Spike let his vampire visage emerge. Then, as if a dark cloud hid behind the sun, his human features returned.

"For me to turn you, luv" he smirked, "you need my cooperation. And so far..." Spike froze as another jolt of electricity coursed through his body. "...you haven't impressed me. I was doing stuff like that", he indicated the outer room with a quick nod of his head, "long before you were ever born. There are people much worse than you, and more deserving of being turned than you." He watched the play of emotions play over Camilla's face. God, what was it with him that he attracted the nuts of the world? Couldn't a guy get just one sane girl in a hundred plus years?

A small sound echoed into the chamber from an adjoining room. Camilla and Spike both froze listening for the sound to be repeated. The silence continued undisturbed for a while until another sting of the current passed through Spike, causing his teeth to crash together and grind until it had passed.

"Ya' stupid bint, could you turn off the bleeding current for a while. Ya know, that might go a long way for having me trust you."

A look of hope crossed Camilla's face, only to disappear under the mad glimmer of insanity in her eyes. "That's not true. I don't need your cooperation."

Spike had again heard the sound from the outer chamber, but this time it had been missed by Camilla. He tried to see into the next cavern but his view was blocked by his jailer. "So, how do you think this works? Not that I really care what you think, I just want to see what a bleeding idiot you are going to be as my minion."

Camilla put down the knife she had been holding and picked, instead, a short little scalpel. "I have no intention of being your minion." she said. She gently pulled the silk shirt away from Spikes chest and lowered the scalpel to the first button. "When I am done with you, I intend to stake you. It's only what you deserve." She carefully cut the button from the shirt and moved on to the next. "I have spent hours planning what I would do with you when you showed up." The second button followed the first to the floor. Her hand slid down the shirt to then next button and maneuvered the material away from the threads so the scalpel would have smooth access for the cut. With a quick flick of the wrist the third button hit the floor with a little clicking noise before running off into the corner. "I just didn't know that I would find you so attractive." With a deft twist, Camilla pulled the shirt tails free of the black jeans and cut the last button off the shirt.

With gentle hands she smoothed the shirt away reveling Spike's chest. With delicate touches she traced her hands down the cool flesh to the waist band of his jeans. Unconsciously, she began to make small noises in her throat. The scalpel trailed a small red line of blood down the side of Spikes chest.

Much to Spikes discomfort he found himself responding to these strange ministrations. It was really too much like some of the games he and Dru used to play.

Camilla's hand smoothed down the front of the jeans. "Oh poor baby." she pouted. "These will just have to come off." With a delicate touch she put the scalpel on the waist band and began to pull the sharp blade through the material. The cut was abruptly halted as another jolt of electricity flowed through the wire. Camilla, still touching Spikes chest, was frozen for the few seconds it took the current to pass.

"Shit!" She roared, jumping back from Spikes body. "Shit, shit, shit."

"See ya' stupid cow, if you had turned it off, we could have played a while." smirked Spike. Amusing as it was to watch Camilla stomp around the cave, he knew he had to get free of this deadly trap.

Camilla, incensed beyond words, stumbled back to the table and snatched up one of the long knives and stabbed it into Spikes body. The blade went in only a short distance and stayed stuck there, a quivering bolt of stainless steel.

"Ya' bloody bitch! That fuckin' hurts!" yelled Spike as he writhed trying to get to the handle of the knife to pull it out. The pain was excruciating. The knife must have lodged between two ribs and now was stuck. "Pull it out! Pull it out!"

There was a sound of laughter from just on the other side of the door. Camilla whirled around toward the sound while Spike continued to fight his restraints. "Shut up," Camilla hissed.

Kindra stepped through the doorway and into the small room. She carried her sword unsheathed but also wore a gun in a shoulder holster. "Step away from him." she said, advancing another step into the room. 

Camilla retreated a couple steps toward the back of the room. The knives were on the table next to her and she reached out and snatched up one of the longer knifes. "You get away from him," she hissed at Kindra. "I know you just want him for yourself."

Kindra advanced another step into the room forcing Camilla to retreat again. "Wil, Jeff, get in here and get Spike loose."

Jeff and Willamina came into the room. Both looked pale and Willamina gave a small sound of dismay when she saw the knife sticking in Spikes' chest. They both began to work on untangling the barbed-wire. 

"Back off," said Spike. Both the youngsters backed away while another jolt of electricity went through the wires. When it had passed, Spike glanced over toward the table with the knives. "There, get the wire cutters. Just get me out of these wires, and can someone get this bleeding knife out of my chest?"

Wil came up to his side and began to tug at the knife. "Harder," demanded Spike. Will began to giggle helplessly. "What is so bloody funny about this?" Spike asked, running out of patience with his situation.

"It would make it much easier if you didn't sound like something out of a bad porn book." Will said, laughing and wiping the tears from her eyes. 

Jeff was reaching for the wire cutters, and glanced back over his shoulder when he heard Will laughing. Kindra, who had been holding the sword up to keep Camilla at bay, was also distracted by the byplay between Will and Spike. 

As she glanced over, Camilla, who had been looking for just such an opening, reached out and stabbed Jeff's arm. She darted around the rock that Spike was laying on and pushed Will into Kindra, sending both to the floor. She ran out of the room before anyone moved to stop her.

Kindra extricated herself from the tangle on the floor and raced out the door after Camilla.

Spike shot a look at Jeff. "Would you hurry up, you sodding wanker? She'll kill her."

Jeff grabbed the wire cutters from the table and cut the bonds that held Spike to the rock. Spike pulled the knife out of his chest and raced out of the room after the two women.

As he reached the outside, he looked up to see them hanging from the rope. Camilla's foot lashed out and connected with Kindras' face. She lost her grip on the rope and began to plummet toward the rock ledge. Spike, moving quickly, raced to get beneath her. He caught her but both crashed to the ground. 

Kindra recovered first and moved to climb the rope after the fleeing Camilla. Spike pulled himself to his feet, "No, luv. Now it's my turn." He snatched the rope from the protesting Kindra and swarmed up the side of the wall. 

Camilla had reached the top and disappeared. Spike began to climb cautiously as he neared the top of the canyon wall. He raise his head over the side of the wall and was rewarded with a foot to his face. His grip on the rope relaxed a little and he began to slide back down. Regaining his composure, he gripped the rope tightly with one hand and heaved himself toward the top, his feet firmly planted in one of the myriad cracks in the surface of the wall. With his other hand he grabbed out and caught the foot before it could connect with his face again. "You're going down, bitch." And with a yank, he pulled Camilla off balance.

For a long moment the startled woman teetered on the edge of the cliff face, then gravity pulled her resisting body down and over the edge. 

Spike grabbed the rope with both hands and only had seconds to yell out to Kindra below before he heard a sickening thud as the body hit the edge of the ledge and then tumbled down the rest of the canyon wall to land lifeless at the bottom. Small rocks and pebbles continued to bounce for a few seconds before stillness descended on the now darkened landscape. He climbed gingerly down the rope, now protecting his side which now began to throb with the renewed movement.

When he reached the ledge, Will and Jeff had joined Kindra outside. They all stood for a moment looking over the side at the twisted body on the bottom of the canyon.

"What now?" asked Jeff, looking at Kindra.

Spike answered. "You need to leave." He nodded to Kindra. "Get these kids out of here, and when you get back to the shop, call the police and tell them what you found here. You can just say you were checking why the ropes were hanging over the cliffs. Since you have a business that deals with rock climbing, it would make sense that you would checked on this. Let them know you found the body." 

"What are you going to do?" She said, sheathing the sword in the scabbard on her back.

"I have some business to take care of in there." he answered, indicating the cavern. "I want to make sure that we haven't left anything."

"Be careful. And don't take too long. The police out here are going to be swarming all over here after I make the call." Jeff and Willamina had disappeared over the side for the climb down, and now Kindra turned to follow. Stopping at the edge, she reached into her shorts pocket and pulled out a wooden stake. "Here, I think you are going to need this."

Spike caught the stake as it was tossed to him. He gave a brief nod and disappeared back into the cave as Kindra lowered herself over the side.

Spike walked to the back of the large cavern, to the Ripper display. He walked up and knelt by the mutilated body lying on the makeshift bed. He tentatively reached out and touched the hair lying on the pillow. The small body flinched away from even this brief touch. 

"I'm sorry, pet." He sat on his heels a few seconds more. "I have a stake here. I can end this right now, if you want. Or, I can free you and help you get somewhere so you can recover. It looks like it will take a long time for that..." He trailed off as he studied the bizarre array of organs arranged on the bed. He raised the stake and sent it through the heart lying exposed under the ribs. The body on the bed convulsed once, the jaw worked and a small "thank you..." escaped before it exploded into dust.

Spike rose and walked to the back of the cavern into the small room. Knives lay scattered across the floor, knocked there in Camilla's haste to escape. He gathered up the buttons that had been cut from his shirt and picked up the wire cutters from the floor. Looking around, he made sure that he had missed nothing to connect his rescuers to this mess, then left the cavern without a backward glance.

Three police cars went racing pass as he made his turn off of Charleston onto Fort Apache. He wondered for a moment what they would make of the gristly scenes in the cave and then gave all his attention back to driving. 

  
  


Authors note:

All chapters are written, they just need to be review for errors, which I probably won't catch, and then they will be posted. Yeah!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. The Courtyard

The next evening, Spike was again invited back to the store for dinner. 

  
  


Tables had been set up behind the store in a courtyard filled with greenery and fountains. Conversation was lively. The group, which included Kindra, Magda, Willamina, Jeff and a few of the other ladies that occupied the house had exploded into laughter when Spike voiced his opinion that this was the tamest brothel that he had ever visited. It was finally explained to him, in no uncertain terms, that this was not a brothel, as he had originally surmised but a Guild house, a modern and real place for women who fashioned themself after the Renunciates in the Marion Zimmer Bradley books. 

  
  


Dinner was a very informal affair, with Jeff doing the grilling and if anyone objected to the state of undercooked meat that was Spike's preference, they gave no sign.

  
  


The gathering was breaking up into smaller groups. Spike found himself alone at the table with Kindra. He gave a nod in Willamina's direction. "She seems to be taking the death of her mum pretty well."

  
  


Kindra frowned at Spike. "Her mum?" she questioned.

  
  


"Yeah, that woman, Camilla. The cliff diver. Took a swan of the wall." Spike prompted.

  
  


Kindra shook her head. "That wasn't Will's mother."

  
  


"Well, then, who was she? She seemed convinced she was the mum." Spike replied.

  
  


Kindra shook her head. "No. That was her mom's roommate. That's why she was here in this house. Camilla has always known Will, and when they released her from the asylum, she had no where else to go. Will asked that we take her in."

  
  


"You let that perverted bint live in your house?" asked Spike, incredulous.

  
  


"We obviously didn't know she was like that. My god! She was a serial killer." Kindra shuddered. "I guess we are lucky we didn't end up in that bizarre...whatever that was."

  
  


"Yeah, well, I'm glad to know I'm not related to that." 

  
  


Kindra cocked her head and just looked at Spike. There was just no suitable reply to that.

  
  


Toward the end of the evening, Jeff hurried out to the front of the store with Willamina and returned with a stranger.

  
  


"Kindra," began Jeff nervously, "this is my dad. I thought you should meet him. I would really like to start going out with Willamina, that is, if you'll let us." He stood looking hopefully at Kindra.

  
  


"Uh, does your father have a name?" asked Kindra. 

The stranger stepped forward, transferred his hat to his left hand and offered his right for a handshake. "Hi. I'm just called Whistler. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I have heard so much about you. I appreciate the care you have given my son."

Kindra looked over the stranger standing in front of her, and just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. She could tell that this was Jeff's father, there was a resemblance about the eyes and mouth. "Yes," she replied, taking the offered hand, "it has been a pleasure to know your son. He has been a great...help, for Will and me." Turning to face Jeff, she smiled. "You know, you don't have to be so formal. Of course I'll let you date Will. But, and this is a big but, you know she is much younger than you so you will have to agree to rules."

Will turned to Jeff with a smile, "See, I told you she'd say yes. You just worry too much."

Jeff was smiling, "Thank you, you won't be sorry. Thank you." Then he and Willamina rushed off to the corner to talk leaving Whistler with Kindra, Spike and the other ladies.

"I'm afraid I can't stay long for the festivities." He finally looked at Spike. "What are you doing here?" he blurted out.

Spike looked him over. He was sure he had never seen him before, and he was sure that he was not human. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here, and you better be right quick about the answer, mate." Spike moved to stand in front of Kindra. "If you're here to cause trouble you'll get your wish."

Whistler replaced his hat and motioning for Spike to follow, started for the store.

Kindra gave Spike a questioning look, but all Spike could do was shrug his shoulders and follow. He would at least find out why this guy was here.

When the two had retreated far enough from the table to not be heard, Whistler rounded on Spike. "Look, I don't know what your game is but you had better leave these ladies alone. And that Willamina is special. The Powers That Be are very interested in her and will not take kindly to one of your kind messing up their plans."

"What do you mean, messing up their plans? And what do you know about Willamina?" Spike stared suspiciously at short demon in front of him. "Willamina is my great, great...great..." Spike thought a few moments, "anyway she a few times removed granddaughter of mine, so what business of yours is it anyway?"

Whistler removed his hat and scratched his head. This was much more complicated than he had expected. He knew from prior experience that Spike had been in Sunnydale and had worked with the Slayer. He decided to pursue this line of questioning.

"Do you know the Slayer?"

"Of course I know the Slayer. We're right buddies, and I know her sister, too. In fact, I take care of her now and then, protect her. And I knew her mom. She used to make me hot chocolate with marshmallows." Spike crossed his arms, daring this little man to refute what he knew was true.

Whistler's forehead wrinkled in thought, this just couldn't be right. All the demons involved had been convinced that "thee" one was Angel. He had met the slayer, knew the sister, and he had a soul, three of the requirements predicted by the prophesy. But now this, with Spike, was unexpected. They knew the savior had to finally meet up with the caller. Whistler finished his consideration of the situation and turned his attention back to Spike.

"Do you have a soul?" he asked, squinting up at Spike. 

"What? No!" denied Spike vehemently. "What would I want with one of those? Become a bloody ponce like Angel? No!"

  
  


Whistler replaced his hat back on his head. "Well, if you get one, you will be seeing me around. I think we will have a lot to talk about then." He wondered for a minute if he should mention the prophesy of the key, the caller and the savior, but shook his head and retreated through the doorway out of the shop.

"Not if I see you coming first." Spike muttered after the retreating demon. 

Finally, it was time to leave for the airport. Will, Jeff, Kindra and Magda drove Spike in the old psychedelic Volkswagen minibus to the airport. When Spike had look askance at the mode of transportation, Kindra explained she had picked it up for a song from some grieving parents after the famous Woodstock concert. She didn't get the whole story, but it appeared that all was not peace and love at the concert, a few of the teenagers had died. She had kept the van as a piece of memorabilia from that era, and was now reconditioning the engine so it would have life again. Spike, wisely, kept his mouth shut although he wasn't sure what Kindra would say when she uncovered the heart drawn in flourescent paint on the back door, now under a layer of material, that said Spike and Dru forever.

When they got to the airport, everyone piled out and much to Spike's surprise, they all hugged him goodbye. Willamina was the last and held him a little longer than the others. "I am going to miss you, Uncle Spike." When she backed away, he could see the tears in her eyes. He, too, felt a little bereft, it had been a long time since he had any family, and the longer he did not kill, the more he realized how much he was enjoying the interaction with these humans.

"I'll miss you too, pet." He turned to go.

He started to walk away, but Willamina grabbed at his coat, "Oh, I almost forgot, here." She pressed a disposable camera into his hands. "I went out the other day and took pictures of all the sights here so you can have pictures when you get back. I wanted to get them developed, but...well, with all the stuff, I didn't have time."

He nodded his thanks and left then, unable to say anything past the lump in his throat and berating himself for turning into the very poncey-nancy boy that he called Angel.

  
  
  
  



	10. The Bronze

The Bronze was crowded for a Wednesday night. There was no band playing, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of electricity in the air these days. Xander, Anya, Buffy, Tara and Dawn sat at one of the tables guarding the extra chair that they had saved for Willow. Giles had elected to stay at home, and if Spike showed up, he would have to get his own chair.

Xander pointed toward the door. "There's Willow."

"And Spike." Anya pointed out unnecessarily. 

The witch and the vampire seemed to be having some sort of game of keep away with Willow passing an envelope back and forth between her two hands and Spike dancing from side to side to grab at it. 

Willow skipped up to the table. "I've got them." Spike, with another bold grab at the envelope, bounced off the table drawing protest from the rest of the group.

"Will you two children knock it off." scolded Buffy, looking back and forth between the two. Willow had the grace to look sheepish for a moment, but then the moment passed. 

"I have the pictures Spike brought back from Las Vegas." she chortled. "And just wait until you see them." Looking slyly at Buffy and Spike, she continued, "There are lots of women in the pictures."

Spike finally succeeded in grabbing the envelope from Willow's grasp. "These are mine." he stated. He started to put them in his pocket, but was stopped by a hand on his arm and the pictures were grabbed from his hand by Xander.

"Hey," said Xander, not at all repentant, "you owe me." This earned him a small hit on the shoulder from Anya. "Hey, like, ow."

He opened the envelope and pulled the pictures from their pocket. "Hey, these are pretty good. Who took them?" he asked, starting to pass them around the table. "And how did you get all the daytime shots?" he asked Spike.

Spike, who had not yet seen the pictures, did not answer. They finally started to reach him and he looked over the shots. It was strange to see all of the places lit with the sun, places he had just left a few nights ago. He had been able to see the daytime world with television, but it was different knowing he had just been there. He hadn't realized that the mountains surrounding the valley we so beautiful.

"Oh, ho. Who are these women?" asked Xander, holding up a photo of three women smiling into the camera. "Like 'em kinda young there, don't fella?"

A smile touch the corners of Spike's mouth and he puffed himself up a little taller in the chair he had snagged from the next table. "That's me great, great, and two more times, granddaughter. There on the left," he said pointing, "and the one in the middle is Kindra. The one on the right is Magda, they are her guardians."

The group gave the appropriate exclamations of how beautiful his granddaughter was and he went on to explain the going away party that they had given for him as the pictures advanced. 

He went quiet for a little while as the pictures came his way. He realized that the photographer was so skilled that while he wasn't "in" any of the shots, they had been taken with care to show his prospective of the party. That explained why Jeff had spent half the night hovering behind him. He was, unaccountably, touched that such thoughtfulness should have been taken on his behalf.

At the end there was a picture showing Willamina and Jeff together. Buffy stared at the photo for a long time before passing it on to Tara. Tara, sensing something, turned to Buffy. "What's wrong?"

  
  


"Do you know that guy in the picture?"

"You mean this one here?" At the affirmative nod from Buffy, she replied. "No, no, I don't think I have ever seen him before. Have you?"

Buffy shook her head and sighed. "No, I don't think so, but he really looks like someone I think I've met." She frowned in concentration, then sighed. "No, I just can't remember where I've seen him before. But, it'll come to me."

"Yeah," said Tara, smiling, "probably in the middle of the night."

Spike gathered up the pictures and put them all back in the envelope. He sat back in his chair and watched the interplay between this group of friends. He knew not all of them considered him part of the group, and all of them would do anything to keep him from Buffy, but for this moment he was content. He felt his demon roll uncomfortably within him. 

Dawn looked over and smiled her dazzling smile, "Come on Spike, tell me about your trip. Did you do anything interesting?"

He pursed his lips into his regular sardonic smile, "I'll tell you as long as Buffy promises not to stake me tonight." All eyes turned to Buffy who, reluctantly, nodded agreement. What was another day?

"Well," began Spike, "when I first got there..."

~*~*~*

The two old men hunched over the chessboard. "Check." said the one old man to the other. 

The day was passing into evening, shadows growing long over the ground and racing up the sides of the building. Soon, the night market would be open. Strollers out for the evening would greet the pair, as they had for many years now. None of the young people could ever remember a time when the pair had not played their game in the village square. Even some of the older villagers seemed to remember them always being there. But in the way of sleepy towns everywhere, no mention was made of the familiar.

The game would continue tomorrow, and the day after. So it had always been, and so it would always be. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
